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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817649">I Wanna Hold Your Hand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitshex/pseuds/heyitshex'>heyitshex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ann and Shiho setting healthy boundaries post-Kamoshida, Ann helping Shiho through physical therapy, Attempted Sexual Assault, Coffee Dad Sakura Sojiro, Comfort/Angst, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Epic Friendship, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Kissing, Girls Kissing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Intimacy, Kamoshida is a BASTARD, Lesbian Takamaki Ann, Light Angst, Metaverse (Persona 5), Minor Suzui Shiho/Takamaki Ann, Mutual Pining, No Lesbians Die, Past Sexual Abuse, Polythieves (Persona 5), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Fluff, Sakamoto Ryuji &amp; Takamaki Ann Friendship, Sapphic Sweeties, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Suzui Shiho is lowkey tsundere, Takamaki Ann POV, Takamaki Ann loves Suzui Shiho so much the earth explodes, Takamaki Ann screams lesbian rights, Takamaki Ann-centric, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, building intimacy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:47:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,300</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitshex/pseuds/heyitshex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In a series of scattered incidents following the aftermath of Kamoshida's heinous crimes against them, Ann and Shiho work to rebuild their relationship and establish healthy boundaries with intimacy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Suzui Shiho &amp; Takamaki Ann, Suzui Shiho/Takamaki Ann</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Oranges</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I will be updating this series of drabbles semi-regularly as I mine some Ann/Shiho content through Persona 5 Royal. The rating and tags may change as I go. I hope everyone enjoys!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Courtyard. Ambulance. Lobby. Let go of her hand.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Takamaki-san. We’ll take good care of her. You need to let go of her hand.”</p><p> </p><p>I didn’t breathe the entire ride to the hospital. Every ounce of my consciousness was focused on <em>her</em>. Little signs that she was still there. A flicker of her eyelids. The faint fog against the breathing mask. Her fingers twitched—<em>or did I imagine that?</em> Everything moved too fast to determine what was real and what was me clinging to scattered shreds of hope. <em>Live, </em>I begged, not sure who I was talking to in my own head. <em>Live. Please live. Please don’t <strong>leave me.</strong></em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“Takamaki-san, we have to go now. Please, wait here.”</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, I find my way back to the surface and drop her hand. My chest constricts as it falls so delicately against the cot. Part of me expected Shiho’s hand to dangle mid-air a little longer and reach for me. I end up in a chair somewhere between watching them wheel her out of and staring at the shut doors to the ICU. <em>One, two, three…</em>seconds pass, and I take a breath with each one that I count. Sometimes when she sleeps over, late at night, I lie next to her and count the tresses of her soft, dark hair until I fall asleep—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>…eighteen, nineteen, twenty…</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>They always smelled like that citrus shampoo I bought her once after she told me oranges smell like summer. I know summer was her favorite time of year because she could play volleyball—</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Can play volleyball. <strong>Can play.</strong></em>
</p><p>
  <strong>  </strong>
</p><p>I put my face in my hands and breathe deeper. <em>Why is it so hard to breathe? </em>I inhale through my nose and exhale through my mouth to calm the tension in my body.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oranges.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>I stop. I breathe again. <em>Her hair. </em>I kept stroking her hair on the way to the hospital. Slowly, I cup my right hand over my nose and mouth, and I breathe deep again, holding the breath for as long as I can. In the time it takes for me to exhale and start sobbing again, every sweet memory I have of her rushes through my mind. The first time we sat together and shared an Italian soda at a café. The first time I held her hand and realized how much shorter her fingers are than mine. The first time she fell asleep on my shoulder during a train ride. The first time she checked over her shoulder, then mine, then around the corner—and she grabbed my shoulders and <em>kissed me</em>.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Shiho…” </em>I curl my legs to my chest and cry.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Honey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I should feel vindicated watching Kamoshida confess his crimes in front of the entire school—but I don’t. The way he blubbers like a child and threatens to end his own life is so <em>cinematic</em> in the worst possible way. He will spend the rest of his life marked by his evil actions. But that doesn’t rewind the past. No crying confession is going to reach back in time and catch Shiho. Every step I take through Shujin Academy is aimless. Everything I see is a reminder that she’s not there. This isn’t my school anymore—it’s just building haunted by heartbroken memories. No amount of penitence from him will ever erase the molten rage I feel under my skin.</p><p> </p><p>Carmen already showed me that forgiveness isn’t obligatory.</p><p> </p><p>Shiho is on the path to full recovery and that’s the only thing that keeps me from chasing Kamoshida down and clawing his eyes out. My heart jumps every time I receive a text or a phone call from her. The first time it happened, I was in the bath and nearly dropped my phone in the water. Shiho texting me that she’s feeling better every other day is the silver lining to a bleak existence.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a week later. The nurse at the front desk clearly sees my impatience as I scribble my name on the visitors list, but she seems to understand. It’s only after I begin to walk away from her that I realize she came to check on me when I started crying in the lobby a week ago. I thank her sincerely before I half-sprint down the hallway to Shiho’s room. The door is open, so I knock on the doorframe out of some lingering sense of politeness.</p><p> </p><p>“Ann!”</p><p> </p><p>My heart stops. I’m only now realizing how much I miss the sound of her voice when she says my name. She’s upright in bed with a tray of half-eaten food over her lap. Her hair’s down, cascading over her shoulders, a little twisted around the ends. My mind goes blank, skipping a <em>hello</em> or <em>how are you</em> as I immediately lapse into a sense of comfort I thought was long gone. “Have you been playing with your hair again?” I tease her before I can stop myself. “I told you not to do that, silly.”</p><p> </p><p>Shiho’s smile matches the sunshine peeking through overcast and pouring in through the window—warm, but <em>bashful</em>. “I know. I got bored. There’s only so much to do in a hospital bed,” she says softly.</p><p> </p><p>I swallow hard. <em>No tears right now. Only smiles. </em>I don’t want her to cry, so I won’t let myself cry. The last thing I want to do is make her feel like she did something wrong. None of this is her fault. “Well,” I sigh, exhaling with a soft laugh, “you’re lucky that I brought plenty of things to keep you entertained.” I hold up a little grocery bag full of snacks, manga, and other little items I picked up over the last week. The assortment is a bit random. Most of it is impulse purchases that made me think of her while we were apart.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Ann, you shouldn’t have—wait, is that <em>lemon KitKat—” </em>She’s reaching out for the bag instinctively with her one good hand. The other is in a cast because she broke her wrist. “I take it back, you’re my <em>hero.</em> The food here is just…<em>ugh.</em> I don’t like seeming ungrateful though.” Her nose scrunches as she glances down at the half-eaten entrée across her lap.</p><p> </p><p>Sympathy tugs my lips into a tender smile. “Well, thankfully, I’ve brought you enough snacks to get you through a few days. I brought all your favorites and then some,” I say as I take a seat and scoot my chair as close to her side as I can. “But make sure you eat well so you get better faster.”</p><p> </p><p>Shiho glances to her broken wrist and winces. “I’ll try. It’s a little hard with one hand,” she admits. “My wrist is very sore. The food gets cold too fast since I have to go slow—uh, Ann?”</p><p> </p><p>I’m cupping the bowl of rice and vegetables in one hand and picking up her utensils with the other before she can finish speaking. “Then I’ll feed you,” I say, shrugging a shoulder. “It’s not good for you to skip a meal when you’re healing.”</p><p> </p><p>Her face grows pink. “Ann! What if someone sees?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care. If you’re having trouble, I’ll feed you.”</p><p> </p><p>Shiho exhales through her nose and purses her lips. She always does that when she’s trying not to smile. “It’s pointless arguing with you, as usual.”</p><p> </p><p>“Sure is. The stewed carrots look pretty good.” I scoop some of the food up and hold it to her lips with a soft smile. “Humor me, please? If you take just five bites, I’ll unwrap as much candy as you want. Deal?”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine, <em>deal,</em>” Shiho sighs, lips parting as she takes the bite and chews experimentally. “Mmm. You’re right. The carrots are sweeter than I expected. I taste honey. Maybe it’s just because you’re feeding them to me.” She smirks at me and takes a sip of water.</p><p> </p><p>Now it’s my turn to blush as I busy myself with retrieving another bite of food for her. “I figured they were the safest bet since <em>someone </em>has an obvious sweet tooth,” I giggle. “See? The food here isn’t so bad. You just need to eat it while it’s still warm—in fact, I can come here after school around dinner time now and help you eat until your wrist is better. Now that you’re free to have visitors, I can come as often as you want me to. I don’t mind at all—”</p><p> </p><p>I realize as I raise the second bite to her lips that there are tears in her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Shiho gulps harshly, turning her face away from the food. She opens her mouth, then closes it at least twice before words actually come out. “Why don’t you…”</p><p> </p><p>I put the food down and reach for her hand. “Shiho—?”</p><p> </p><p>She pulls her hand away from mine and turns away as much as wires and bandages will allow her. “Why don’t you just <em>hate me?” </em>she blurts out. The tears pricking the corners of her brown eyes flood her red cheeks now. “Aren’t you angry at me for what I did? Angry that I just—up and <em>quit on you—”</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“Shiho, <em>no—”</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“But I did, Ann! I did, and I’m <strong><em>so sorry—</em></strong><em>”</em></p><p> </p><p><strong><em>“No.”</em></strong> <em>Carmen?</em></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I don’t recognize my own voice as it cuts through her apology and leaves stunned silence between us. I lean across the bed and put my hand on her cheek, turning her to face me again gingerly. “Don’t apologize to me. <em>Never</em> apologize, Shiho. Neither of us are at fault for what <em>he did.</em>” I don’t say his name. I don’t want to say his name around her ever again. Letting him have his name gives him some kind of strange power over me when I talk about him. “We’re the ones got hurt, Shiho.”</p><p> </p><p>“…But I hurt you when I jumped, didn’t I?”</p><p> </p><p>My throat burns. <strong><em>No.</em></strong> “You didn’t hurt me. That was still him. He hurt you because he knew it would hurt me too,” I say, stroking her face and wiping tears away. “Doesn’t matter how bad it hurt to see you…” I can’t even say <em>‘you jump’</em> out loud, so I don’t. “But I will never hold that against you. I’ll hold it against him until the day I die, but never you. I’m just happy you’re still here.”</p><p> </p><p>Her hand covers mine and she turns her face into my palm, planting a kiss to the center. “I just—” she whispers through quiet sobs, shoulders shaking. “I just can’t help but want to apologize—I almost left you <em>alone—"</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“You didn’t. You’re here. We’re both safe now.” I press my forehead to hers and look into her eyes. “<em>We’re both safe.</em> Say it with me.”</p><p> </p><p>Shiho sniffles, the tip of her nose brushing mine as she nuzzles me in return. “We’re both…safe. We’re safe,” she whispers.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right.” My thumb traces over her lower lip. This is the closest proximity we’ve had since the abuse began. Even when we were alone, a distance grew between us. Kamoshida created a wedge between us that no tender kiss or caress could mend. But now, all I want is to touch her, <em>hold her</em>—I check the doorway briefly to make sure nobody is watching us before I look into her eyes once more. “Shiho, can I kiss—”</p><p> </p><p>Her lips press against mine. <em>Beat me to the punch, as usual. </em>The soft, chaste embrace of her lips on mine lingers for several moments. My other hand rises to thread through her perfect, silky hair. <em>Oranges. Honey.</em> Every time we’ve ever kissed, I’m gobsmacked by how sweet she smells and tastes. The first time was spearmint bubblegum as spring rain soaked us to the bone. The second tasted like strawberries after we picked them in her family’s small garden and ate half the bounty on her back porch. I’ve been hooked on the flavor like a child who eagerly waits for access to the candy jar after dinner. When we part slowly, I steal one more peck just to punctuate the aftermath of honey-soaked carrots glazing my lips.</p><p> </p><p>“I missed kissing you,” Shiho breathes, eyes half-lidded and cheeks rosy. “We haven’t since…”</p><p> </p><p><em>Him. </em>I shake my head. “Don’t think about that,” I say softly but with a firmness in my voice. “We’ll get back to <em>the</em> <em>old us</em> together. We’ll take our time. We’ll go slow. Until then, all I wanna do is hold your hand. That is enough.” Slowly, my hand drops once more to take hers, giving it a soft squeeze. I press small kisses to her cheek, her nose, her eyelids. I want her to know how happy I am just to be able to kiss her and feel her breath mix with mine.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” she says, smiling at me finally and nodding her head. “Okay. Slowly. We can do this.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, we can.” I compose myself, inhaling deeply and sitting up straight. My fingers trail through her hair, glide over her jawline, and drop to the bowl of food between us. “Now, I believe <em>you</em> still owe me four bites.”</p><p> </p><p>Shiho bites her lower lip, drying her tear-stained face and snorting derisively. “Damn. Thought kissing you might distract you from making me eat my vegetables,” she teases as the light comes back to her eyes once again.</p><p> </p><p>“Fat chance,” I huff, rolling my eyes and scooping another bite of carrots to bring to her lips. “Open up.” I try not to laugh as she whines and accepts the food like a petulant child. Despite everything, I am completely and utterly happy just to hold her hand and feed her carrots. <em>God, I really love her.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chai Latte</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The drizzling rain on Café LeBlanc’s windowsill nearly lulls me to sleep. The past couple of weeks has been both mind-boggling and exhausting; yet, amidst unpacking the intricacies of the Metaverse with Akira, Ryuji, and Morgana, I still find my thoughts drifting back to Shiho. She starts physical therapy today. I’m grateful she’s regained the ability to walk on her own even if it takes time and increased effort. The doctors say she’ll gain full mobility with time, patience, and routine low-impact exercise. I’m going see to that personally.</p><p> </p><p>“Ann?”</p><p> </p><p>Morgana’s voice pulls my attention away from counting raindrops on the window idly. All three of them are looking at me, and I blush when I realize a whole side conversation has passed while I was thinking about Shiho. “Sorry,” I apologize, biting my lip with a strained, contrite smile. “I spaced out. My bad.”</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s your head at?” Ryuji snorts, reaching across the table to tap my coffee cup. “You have barely drunk your coffee. It’s gonna get cold, y’know.”</p><p> </p><p>Akira seems to know the answer before I can say it: “You’re thinking of Suzui-san, aren’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Heat creeps across my face at the question. “Y-yeah, sorry. I’m supposed to go see her in a little while,” I explain. “I’m helping her out with some physical therapy exercises today.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s good!” Morgana pipes up, bumping his furry head against my arm. “That means she’s well enough to walk around now, right?”</p><p> </p><p>I nod, feeling giddy at the thought of seeing her out of bed for the first time in nearly a month. “Yes, with a little help,” I say. “She’s doing much better now. I’ve been visiting her as much as I possibly can too—”</p><p> </p><p>Akira props his chin in his palm and leans in, a strange smile on his face. There’s a twinkle in his dark eyes that I recognize immediately—<em>mischief. </em>As stoic as he can be at times, he doesn’t have a good poker face when it comes to hiding his more <em>playful</em> nature once you get to know him. I can see him peeling apart my works like the skin of an apple as he listens to me.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s <em>that</em> look for?” I ask, trying to remain cool as I take a sip of my lukewarm coffee.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing,” Akira says with a languid shrug of his shoulders. “It’s just <em>very cute </em>how much you blush the longer you talk about her.”</p><p> </p><p>I choke. Morgana is looking between the two of us in pure confusion. Ryuji is already laughing into his mostly eaten bowl of curry.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s right!” the blonde laughs and jabs his finger toward me playfully. “You <em>do</em> blush when you talk about her—”</p><p> </p><p>“Sh-shut <em>up,</em>” I grumble, crossing my arms and looking away from him. “Also, stop pointing. It’s <em>rude.”</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>“Aww, c’mon,” Ryuji encourages. “Let us tease you just a little bit. It’s nice to see you this happy now. It’s not like we haven’t noticed how much you check your phone these days…”</p><p> </p><p>“I—but—we all check our phones <em>all the time!”</em> I snort, rolling my eyes and grinning nervously. “We’re texting each other constantly.”</p><p> </p><p>Akira smirks playfully. “We’ve been sitting here for thirty minutes in person, and you’ve checked your phone six times.”</p><p> </p><p>It occurs to me at this point that my hand is already tracing the outline of my phone in my pocket. I hadn’t even noticed until he said something. “Okay, <em>fine. </em>You’ve made your point,” I sigh, scrunching my shoulders. “I just didn’t want either of you thinking I wasn’t invested in what we’re doing…y’know, in our <em>free time.”</em> Air quotes seem too cliché to do, but my tone implies it will enough, I suppose.</p><p> </p><p>Morgana’s tail flicks quickly as he paws at my arm. “Hey, it’s alright to celebrate her recovery—you both deserve to feel victory after she survived and we took <em>him</em> down, right?”</p><p> </p><p>At this, Akira’s hand drops and covers mine on the tabletop, followed by Ryuji’s in kind. “If you need to take time for yourself to go see her, don’t feel bad about it,” Akira says gently.</p><p> </p><p>Ryuji nods avidly. “Yeah, and it’s good of you to help her whenever you can. In the meantime, though—” He rubs the back of his neck, dark eyes cutting to the side sheepishly. “If…y’know…<em>you</em> need help with anything, or anyone to talk to about stuff, we’re here for you. Just know that, alright?”</p><p> </p><p>Warmth blossoms in my chest as I look between the three of them, all staring at me in the most heartfelt way. Since Kamoshida’s confession, there’s been a constant outpouring of apologies and moments of remorse from my peers that seems so <em>surface-level. </em>So many “<em>I’m sorries”</em> and <em>“We’re here for you’s”</em> that ricochet off me. When all of it was happening—the harassment, the abuse, the feeling of <em>filth</em> on my own skin—none of them were there. No one believed me until I met the three of them—Akira, Ryuji, and Morgana. They were the only ones who cared enough to even believe me. As I feel the weight of their hands on mine, the brush of Morgana’s soft ears on my forearm, I look away, so a few wayward strands of hair hide tears that threaten to form.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks, guys,” I mumble, sucking in a deep breath and facing them again once I collect myself. “I’ll remember that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, jeez, don’t go gettin’ all sentimental on us now,” Ryuji huffs, dissolving the heaviness in the air as he reaches up to flick my hair out of my face. “You’re gonna get me all sentimental and shit, and I got a tough reputation to uphold—”</p><p> </p><p>Morgana flicks his tail again and snorts. “I feel like you’re using the term <em>tough</em> a little loosely there.”</p><p> </p><p>Akira sputters slightly mid-drink as Ryuji gapes at him in annoyance. I melt into a fit of giggles and push my cup aside as the two of them glare at each other with airtight fury rising. “You two stop arguing,” I scold lightly. “I need to get going soon. Shiho is waiting on me and—oh!”</p><p> </p><p>Akira lifts his brow at me. “What’s wrong?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing, I just remembered—I was going to get something to-go for Shiho.” I slide out of the booth and hop to the bar, inclining my head toward Sakura-san as I get his attention. “May I put in an order for a chai latte to-go?” <em>Chai latte with plenty of cinnamon. </em>She always drinks it on rainy days.</p><p> </p><p>Sakura-san glances up from the newspaper in his hand and sets it aside with a soft smile. “Of course. Comin’ right up.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Mochi</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Are you upset that I’m leaving Shujin Academy?”</p><p>The notion to be upset hasn’t crossed my mind. As we sit in the courtyard of the hospital under a wide awning, I pick at the bento I packed delicately. Cooking isn’t my strongest skill, but I did my best to prepare her favorite lunch. If Shiho has any complaints about it, she’s not saying anything as she takes another bite of the sweet, fluffy omelet and hums in approval.</p><p>“I want you to do what’s best for you,” I say finally.</p><p>Shiho smiles at me with tired eyes. “I know, but…that’s not what I asked you.”</p><p>I keep my eyes trained on the food, idly pinching flecks off a half-eaten onigiri. I don’t know how to answer her. I don’t know how to tell her that I’m upset, but it has nothing to do with her. <em>She’ll be forever marked by this.</em> The words I said to Akira and Ryuji on the rooftop echo in my mind and I clench my fist under the tabletop. Even if Kamoshida pays for his crimes, Shiho is doomed to have this follow her. <em>Why?</em> Why is it that when a man hurts a woman, she’s marked by it? The world is truly an unfair place for a girl.</p><p>“I’m not upset at you,” I confess, “but I’m upset you have to go.”</p><p>“It’s okay. Me too.”</p><p>I turn to her now, fierceness and defiance welling up inside of me like boiling hot water. “So…<em>don’t go</em>. Who cares what they say, you’ll still have me--” I regret the words as soon as they come out of my mouth. I have no right to say that. I know that, but—</p><p>Tears dot the corners of her brown eyes. <em><strong>Fuck.</strong></em></p><p>“Shiho,” I sigh, my shoulders falling. “I’m…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”</p><p>“No, it’s okay. You’re right—” Her voice hitches as she reaches to take my hand. “It’s unfair. It’s so <strong><em>fucking unfair</em></strong>, right?”</p><p>“Shiho—”</p><p>Her face scrunches in anger, cheeks blooming red as she forces herself to speak through the crying. “Neither of us asked for this, but we’re still going to be labeled and stared at—people would look at me like, <em>there goes Suzui-san, that girl that was—and you were—”</em> She hunches over, pressing her face into her hands. <strong><em>“It’s so unfair!”</em></strong></p><p>I don’t register the time it takes to leave my seat and pull her into my lap. I don’t care who’s around to see me do it either. I wrap her in my arms and cradle her to my body, warm and tight. Every fiber of my being dedicates itself to shielding her from the cruelty of the world. “It’s okay,” I hush her tenderly, planting a kiss to the top of her head as I hold her. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I even brought it up like that. It is unfair, and you shouldn’t even have to consider leaving…” <em>Just to live a normal and happy life. Even if his heart is changed, he’s still taking Shiho away from me in the end.</em> I swallow hard, forcing myself not to dissolve into a fit of tears at the realization that maybe in time, I’ll still lose her.</p><p>“I don’t <em>want</em> to leave you,” Shiho whimpers, her torso shaking with every quiet sob she muffles against the crook of my neck and shoulder. “I don’t want to, but just <strong>looking</strong> at the gate of <em><strong>that school</strong></em>—”</p><p>“I know,” I breathe, nuzzling into her silky black hair. “I know. I understand. You don’t have to even explain yourself. You just…” My throat tightens and I shut my eyes. “You just do what you need to do to be safe and happy, and I’ll be there for you. Simple as that. I don’t need anything but that, you hear me?”</p><p>Shiho grows quiet and still against me. Enough time passes that what’s left of the food is cold, and we’re the only ones sitting in the courtyard when I finally look up again. A soft sniffle comes from her and she shifts to rest her forehead against my cheek, staring down at the table silently. As sad as I feel, if I could freeze time, I would. I want to stay like this with her forever.</p><p>“You’ll still talk to me every day?” Shiho murmurs. “We’ll text each other goodnight every night? I can come see you on the weekends?”</p><p>I smile, discreetly rubbing tears from my eyes with my jacket sleeve. “Of course—hell, I’ll bother you <em>so much</em> you might get sick of me now!”</p><p>A bubbling giggle escapes her, breaking through her weepy sniffling and filling the air around me like a spring breeze. “I could never be sick of you. I have a <em>sweet tooth</em>, remember?” she whispers, tilting her head back and brushing a brief, chaste peck to my lips.</p><p>I melt against her, content to savor the fleeting feeling of how sweet her lips taste as I squeeze her waist warmly. The shape of her fits me so well, I feel whole for the first time in months. “Speaking of sweet tooths,” I hum thoughtfully. “I hear they serve pretty good mochi in the children’s wing cafeteria. Think we can snag some?”</p><p>Her eyes light up in an instant. “Really?”</p><p><em>That’s my girl.</em> I steal another quick kiss and slowly budge her from my lap. “C’mon. Let’s go before it’s all gone.”</p>
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